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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696233">an unpleasant kindness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marked_by_moonlight/pseuds/Marked_by_moonlight'>Marked_by_moonlight</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Death, Death, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Master of Death Harry Potter, Not Really Character Death, POV Harry Potter, Personification of Death, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Temporary Character Death, The Deathly Hallows, Time Travel Fix-It</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:14:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696233</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marked_by_moonlight/pseuds/Marked_by_moonlight</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Death is little more than an unpleasant kindness, Harry Potter knows this well enough. On the twenty fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry Potter loses his wife and children to a Death Eater attack. He receives an offer to go back and change things, to go back and save them all, because everyone must walk with Death eventually, and Death doesn't mind a little bit of waiting. </p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>Harry and Death go back in time to kick some butt and scare the moldy shorts off of Tim Riddle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Death &amp; Harry Potter, Death Eater Characters &amp; Harry Potter, Filius Flitwick &amp; Harry Potter, Filius Flitwick &amp; Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger &amp; Harry Potter &amp; Ron Weasley, Minerva McGonagall &amp; Harry Potter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>an unpleasant kindness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or its associated works, J.K. Rowling does. I am not making any profit off of this work.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Death was never something Harry feared, oh no, truth be told, he thought about it very little, so why should he be afraid of something he rarely ever thought of? </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That is to say, it was his own death that troubled him so little, and not the deaths of his family or his friends. Oh, those worried him quite a bit, but there was nothing he could do, death is inevitable, after all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry sighs and leans further back against the yew tree that marks the edge of the grounds of Potter Manor. It’s the twenty fifth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, and he is, as usual, staying home. The whole affair had turned into a bit of a sham, being twisted and morphed into some sort of Ministry approved propaganda celebration, rather than a true memorial service for the fallen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d skipped out on the anniversary celebrations for the past fifteen years, choosing instead to sit beneath the yew tree and think about all of those lost to Voldemort and his followers, to all of those who needed remembering. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Drawing himself from his thoughts, Harry looks up to watch his breath curl out in a misty fog, and icicles form on the branches above him. A familiar voice from behind him calls out, flaring up those frayed, war-worn nerves. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll catch your death out here you know.” says the figure. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry snorts and takes a slow sip of his coffee. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You and I both know that it isn’t my time to go yet.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The figure hums, and then steps forward to place their hand on the yew tree. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I have some news, young one.” says the figure, their voice saddened. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry hangs his head, letting his cup fall to the forest floor and soak the nearby ground with coffee. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m truly sorry, young Potter. There was nothing I could do for them besides take them with me. They were past saving when I felt the pull to come to the Courtyard.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry swallows thickly, turning to cling to the yew tree, the only thing holding him steady. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death places a cold bony hand upon his shoulder and hums again. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t like the way the world has unfolded since your time in the Potter’s Field, young one. There is little I can do on my own to rewrite the flow of time, of so many souls spun backwards into light, but perhaps you can assist me. You are my Master after all, and the Last Potter at that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry finally releases the sob building in his chest, falling with a soft thud to the ground. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His green eyes shine when he looks up at Death. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His voice is hoarse as he speaks, “Anything. I’ll do anything to save them. Please, please. I-I don’t want to be alone.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death lets out a small chuckle, and then they wave their hand. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Dear boy, you are never alone. The Dead walk with you, as do I.” Death continues, “However, thank you for agreeing to assist me, young one.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death looks at the yew tree above them, and a thin, dark branch falls down into their bony palm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, I think this shall do quite nicely, though it needs some alterations.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And with that, Harry watches as Death rummages through their many pockets lining their black robes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aha! Here they are!” exclaims Death.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They remove from a particularly deceiving pocket, an ornately carved wand, a black feather, a hair, and finally, a very familiar looking emerald stone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Death settles to the ground beside Harry, and begins to work; first whittling off the bark of the yew tree to reveal bone white wood, and then with a wave of their hand, combines the white wood and black wand with the feather and the hair between them. They then embed the Resurrection Stone into the hilt of the wand, and hand it hilt first to Harry. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He takes it gingerly, and is surprised when the sparks flare out silver instead of red and gold. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“A wand befitting a champion, a true Master of Death. You’ll do well with it young one, of that I have no doubt.” says Death. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The leaves above them rustle in the breeze before Death speaks again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll meet on Samhain, young Potter. Be sure to have your affairs in order, as you shan’t be coming back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry watches as Death disappears into nothingness, and lets out a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>After a few moments, he picks up his empty coffee mug and walks inside to the empty house, so quiet and still now that he knows his wife and children won’t be returning from Hogwarts.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>----</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The end of October settles upon the grounds of Potter Manor with a heavy fog and bitter winds. The Manor was well warded, but that didn’t stop the public of Wizarding Britain from sending their Savior condolence letters. Fortunately, the mail redirection ward put paid to any of that. The goblins dealt with everything for a fee, businessmen as they were. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only people he interacts with are Professor Flitwick, Minerva, and Ron. The weekly tea times livens up the Manor immensely, far from the usual depressive state the Manor had collapsed into after the beginning of May.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry spends the months following the death of his wife and children writing letters; to his solicitor, to Teddy, to his financial manager, all to ensure that his affairs were settled when he would meet with Death on Samhain.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>——</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finally the day arrives, dawning cold and clear across the lawn, each blade of grass heavy laden with glistening frost. The clouds appearing to all the world as a grey shroud across the sky. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Harry wakes before dawn, and spends the morning puttering around the kitchen, fixing his last meal. He starts with a mug of tea, and a slice of toast, before consuming a slice of treacle tart. If he’s going to walk through the veil with Death, he isn’t doing so on an empty stomach. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Finishing off the last bite of treacle, Harry stands and grabs his cloak off the coat rack in the corner of the kitchen. It contains his old holly and phoenix feather wand, a snitch, and his signet ring, the face of which is engraved with the crest of House Potter. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He fastens the cloak and steps out to attend his date with Death.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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